Regression
by Barbellenel
Summary: Hisagi, Renji, Kira, Iba, Ikkaku, Yumi explore their past lives and deaths through Isane's regression hypnosis. Lots of humor, some violent but humorous deaths, angst, hint romance. Based on Shinigami Cup 112. WARNING: DEVIATES FROM MANGA AND SHOW.
1. Posture

I do not own Bleach. Nor am I creative enough to design a new world, so I am borrowing Soul Society for a few turns around the block. It will be returned unharmed.

REGRESSION

_Continuation of Shinigami cup 112: Kira, Renji, and Hisagi walking down the hallway, __talking about Iba who is studying Hisagi in order to command respect from his squad._

"Posture, Iba. It's all about posture. You can wear sunglasses to look cool, but if your posture stinks, then no one will respect you. Here, let me show you." A dark-haired Shinigami got up from his chair and placed a hand in the small of Tetsuzaemon Iba's back. A sharp shove, a painful crack, and Iba's eyes flew open like saucers.

"Hisagi, you're killing me here. That hurt!"

"Aw, what's the matter, Iba? Can't take it?" A tattooed red-head of a Shinigami elbowed the pale blue-eyed blond sitting next to him on the sofa, snickering. "See, Kira? I told you Iba was a pansy."

"You can be so callous at times, Renji." The blond looked away distastefully. "You have no class at all. Get your feet off the coffee table."

It was unusual for all four of the Shinigami vice captains to have the day off together. To celebrate, they had decided to gather in the community rec room of the Soul Society and play some pool, darts or cards, or just shoot the breeze. They had agreed that it felt better to be inside lounging than to be outside training in the summer heat. Tomorrow would bring time for that. Today was a day of play, and Shinigami could play as hard as they fought. It was sometimes hard to tell the difference.

The first to arrive that afternoon had been Izuru Kira, blond vice captain of the third division of the Gotei 13. He had arrived early to set up the coffee pot, a vital necessity even on hot days like today. Then came Renji Abarai, tattooed, confident red-head from the sixth division, accompanied by sunglass-wearing posture victim Tetsuzaemon Iba of the seventh division. The last to arrive, a departure from his usual promptness, had been the handsome, but scarred and tattooed Shuuhei Hisagi of the ninth division, who muttered under his breath about the day already being off to a bad start.

"No class, huh? Hey, when I was alive," Renji bragged, "I had plenty of class. I was a high roller, big money, Cadillac, all the perks. And all the babes I could handle."

"Pah, Renji. You don't know that," Iba huffed between Hisagi's pushes and shoves at his physique. The shorter man reached up and tugged roughly at Iba's flat-top. "Watch the hair, Dude." He swatted the offending hand.

Hisagi threw both hands in the air and backed away with a slight bow. "Hey, you're the one that wanted to learn from ol' Shuuhei. I'm just showing you how to do it. I'm telling you, Iba, it's all about posture and how you carry yourself."

Iba was beginning to regret having asked Hisagi's advice on how to command respect from his division, a struggle for him, but something Hisagi unquestionably had from his. Renji and Izuru sipped their first cups of coffee and watched in amusement as Hisagi poked and prodded, putting the big man through enough pain to make him wonder why he had opened his mouth.

"Posture? Come on, Hisagi, there's got to be more to it than that. I'm already taller than most of the guys in my squad," Iba pouted.

"Taller, but not smarter," smirked Renji to Kira under his breath.

"You are so mean," reprimanded the blond.

"It's true, ain't it?" asked the redhead.

"I didn't say it wasn't, now did I?" countered the blond with a chuckle.

"Hey knock it off. You guys are making fun of me, and I don't like it." Iba puffed out his chest to give some weight to his words.

"Now that's what I'm talking about!" The sharp rap on the back from Hisagi sent Iba's breath flying. "Posture, Iba! Your posture showed 'em who was boss. See what I mean?"

"Oooo, I'm cowering in my seat!"

"Shut up, Renji," Shuuhei commanded.

"Yes, Mr. Teacher Man," whimpered Renji, sarcastically.

"But Shu, I don't feel good all puffed up like this. It ain't natural," whined Iba, neck craned, chin held a little too high.

"With practice, it'll come more naturally, Iba, I promise," Shuuhei observed his friend's effort, "just don't force it."

"You promise?! I feel like a poser, practicing all this proper posture! If you're playing with me, pal, I'm gonna pound you!"

"Quit protesting, you're spitting alliteration all over my shoes."

"Alliter-what?"

"Alliteration, Moron. Words beginning with the same sounds used in close proximity to each other. Alliteration!" Shuuhei rolled his eyes and headed towards the counter for a cup of coffee.

Kira and Renji laughed hysterically. "You really do sound like a teacher now, Hisagi!"

"Either that, or a walking dictionary!"

Seeing an opportunity for a little revenge, Iba taunted, "Hey, Hisagi, maybe you taught pre-school when you were alive," emphasizing the word pre-school.

Shuuhei shot a threatening look at the moron triplets as they laughed. "Then I should have no trouble dealing with you guys!"

"Naw, Iba," howled Renji, "I always figured Hisagi to be one of my errand boys, waxing my limo, shining my shoes, picking up my dry cleaning, scratching my butt, then kissing it for good measure."

"Not on your life! In that life, this life, or the next!" sputtered Hisagi.

"You're just being mean, Renji, but you know, Shuuhei," chimed Kira, sincerely, "I could see you as a teacher. After all, you've taught at the academy for years. Maybe it was meant to be."

"Yeah, maybe…like it was meant for Hisagi to get into the academy on his first try," Renji guffawed, wiping the tears of laughter away on his sleeve.

"You pig," Hisagi spat. It was a minor sore spot that he had failed the academy entrance exams twice, once on purpose, the second by oversight. It was a major sore spot that Renji never let him forget it. His irritation mounted. Before he could stop himself, he blurted, "For your information, I WAS a teacher when I was alive!"

"Dude!"


	2. Confession

CHAPTER 2 - Confession

"That's right. When I was alive, I was a teacher." His pronouncement would have had just the effect he was hoping for had he given it some thought. But at the moment, Shuuhei regretted his rash decision to reveal that information.

_At least, it shut them up_, he consoled himself.

Iba, Renji, and Kira stared at him, eyes wide, mouths open, chins in their laps. He picked up his coffee cup, leaned against the counter, and sipped. This was stunning news! Shinigami were not supposed to have connections to their past lives in the world of the living, yet here he was – calm, mature, responsible (except for today when he had been late) Vice Captain Shuuhei Hisagi - making the shocking claim that he knew who he had been when he was alive. It wasn't so much that he had been a teacher, but rather that he _knew_ he had been a teacher. How was that possible?

Kira was the first to recover. "Shuuhei, talk about a bombshell! How do you know that? We're not supposed to know anything about our past lives."

Iba gaped, "Yea, Shu. 'The less known the better.' Isn't that what you've always taught?"

"Well, yea," said Shuuhei slowly, running a hand through his spiked hair, "I mean, that's what I was taught too. It's just that I was helping a friend, and it sort of came out." He pushed away from the counter.

"So you're finally coming out, huh?" Renji belly-laughed, "I knew all the babes around you were too good to be true."

"Shut up, moron. That's not what I meant."

Kira moved from his spot on the sofa to refill Hisagi's cup. "He knows that, Shuuhei. He's just being an idiot to annoy you."

"Thanks, Kira. I…"

"So, spill, Shuuhei. How'd you find out?" Renji interrupted.

"I don't know if I should tell you," Hisagi countered.

"If you don't, your butt is going to get Bankai'ed till the moon don't shine." Renji was rather pleased with his little pun, so Hisagi did the only thing he could and sucker-punched him in the gut.

"Why you…" started Renji.

Kira pushed him back down to the sofa. "If you start a fight now, we'll never find out the story, and I for one would be very interested in finding out who I was in a previous life." He turned from Renji to Shuuhei. "Go on, Shuuhei. As Renji said earlier, spill."

"Well, okay, but it goes no further than this room, okay?"

"Really?! A secret? What fun!" chirped a newcomer. "Tell me, tell me! Ikkaku and I want to do the luck-luck dance for you." Two Shinigami entered the room, one completely bald and the other immaculately dressed with orange cowl and long decorative feathers gracing his right eyebrow.

"Ikkaku! Yumichika! You're just in time! Shuuhei was just about to tell us about his previous life." Izuru Kira beckoned them both to stools at the counter.

"How exciting!" Yumichika Ayasegawa clapped his hands together in glee. He

was practically glowing with excitement.

Kira continued, "He was a teacher, you know."

"Humph, somehow that figures," growled Ikkaku Madarame, the bald one. "All prim and proper, in spite of the tattoos."

"Don't use alligators around him," Iba said. "He gets mad."

"Allitera…Oh, never mind," Hisagi despaired.

"A teacher, huh? A language teacher of some sort, Hisagi?" asked Yumichika.

"Uh, no," hedged Shuuhei, taking a sip of coffee.

"No? Then what kind of teacher were you?" All eyes turned to the man who once again stood leaning against the counter, self-consciously staring into his coffee cup.

"Spill, Shuuhei."

"Spill, spill, spill, spill," the chant filled the room, driving the beat into his head, "Spill, spill, spill."

"All right already!" He straightened up decisively, crossing his bare arms. "I was a…" His voice drained away into nothing as he spoke. Crossing the room, he slouched into an easy chair by the door, the leather squeaking beneath him. He returned his gaze to his cup, wishing that he could dive into the coffee and disappear to the bottom under the black liquid.

"A what? Did you hear what he said? A what?" Yumichika asked Ikkaku.

"Hisagi. Speak up. Yumichika couldn't hear you."

"Like you could!" Yumichika pushed Ikkaku.

"I could!" Ikkaku pushed back.

"Then what did he say?"

"Why should I tell you?"

"Come on, Shuuhei. Don't be embarrassed. It can't be that bad," encouraged Izuru.

"I say a little embarrassment would do him good. What do you think, Iba?"

"Yea, like Abarai said, where's your posturing now, Hisagi? Huh, Teach?"

"Spill, spill, spill." The chanting started again, but died out almost immediately.

He looked his friends murderously in their faces. Gray eyes flashing, he repeated loudly, "I was a physical education instructor. Okay? You satisfied?"

Ikkaku screamed in delight. "YOU WERE A GYM TEACHER???"

Laughter pealed around him as he sat woodenly, pink faced, ears hot, seeing nothing, waiting for the good times at his expense to die down. At least, someone was having a good day, even if it wasn't him. A few friendly punches and whacks about the head reminded him why his normal quiet demeanor wasn't so bad. He regretted trying to shock his friends. The mighty vice captain of Squad 9, already assigned a seated position in the Gotei 13 before he had left the academy, knew that he wasn't going to hear the end of the teasing any time soon.

"Hey, Hisagi," a laughing voice called out, "did you teach Sex Education too?"

His facial coloring deepened to scarlet.


	3. Judgment

It was some time before Shuuhei Hisagi felt the coloring normalize in his face. After all, he had taken some serious ribbing about his chosen profession as a physical education instructor in his past life. No matter how hard he tried to explain that teaching Phys Ed was more than playing games like dodge ball, the harder his so-called friends hurled the balls of double entendres straight at him. By now, the locker room jokes were getting tiresome. His words were being twisted around on him; he didn't like the feeling of not being in control. Most maddening, however, was that Ikkaku insisted on calling him _gym teacher_ to the exclusion of all else.

Finally, the other Shinigami seemed to notice Shuuhei's slowly rising anger. He was not a man that they wanted to tick off. He didn't lose his cool often, but it was not pretty when he did.

Iba handed him a consolatory cup of fresh coffee. "Here ya go, Shu."

Hisagi eyed him with suspicion, but realizing the intent, accepted and slurped the hot beverage, allowing him time to regain his composure.

The silence was broken by Yumichika. "But how did you find out, Shuuhei? We're not supposed to know that stuff." He looked at Kira, and both sang, "The less known the better."

"I know, I know," moaned Shuuhei, continuing sarcastically, "I might as well tell you since you're running out of new material for jokes." He paused and took a deep breath, plunging into the icy waters of the past. "It was after the academy attack, years ago. I was in the division four hospital."

"I remember that. You were there a long time, man."

"Yea, well, during that time, Isane was finishing her exams too, so we studied together sometimes."

"I knew it; I knew there was something going on between the two of you."

"Shut up, Renji, let him talk." Izuru's elbow shot into Renji's ribs.

"Ow, put some meat on those bones, Kira." He looked at Hisagi, "So I was right, wasn't I."

"Well, I'm not denying it, but I'm not confirming it either, but I did help her with some kidou research on hypnosis. She's really interested in past life stuff and all, so I volunteered to be put under and she regressed me to my past life…and that's when I found out I had been a Phys Ed teacher."

"So, how did you die?" Yumichika asked in a voice close to a whisper. Eyes wide, Ikkaku leaned in far enough to topple off the stool.

"Why should I tell you that?" growled the black-haired Shinigami.

"Come on, gym teacher, you can't stop now," Ikkaku snarled back, as he righted himself. "What'd you do, climb the rope, then die of starvation because you couldn't figure out how to get back down?"

"Naw, baseball beaned him on the noggin," Yumichika said lightly.

"Maybe, he made his gym class do laps, so they ganged up on him and dodge balled him to death!" Kira mused excitedly.

"I know! I know! They played the parachute game, and he got caught in the cords and strangled to death."

"Ew, gross, Iba. You're one sick puppy."

"What?" protested Iba. "How is that worse than what you guys said?"

Shuuhei groaned.

"Come on, Hisagi," Renji pressed, "seriously, how'd you die?"

"It wasn't very pretty," confessed the battle-scarred Shinigami. In fact, it had been pretty gruesome. He lowered his head and said softly, "My wife killed me when she caught me in bed with my lover."

Ikkaku gave a low whistle. "Man, that's harsh."

"It was justice…in a sense." He spoke slowly, forcing out the words. "I suppose I had it coming…" Hesitating, he swallowed hard and continued, "…Guess I had a problem with fidelity back then." _There!_ If he had thought that his words would liberate him from guilt, he was wrong. They made him feel ashamed and confined and small.

Expecting disapproval or even laughter and crude jokes, he looked up. But to his surprise, the men in the room were silent, each lost in his thoughts, some pondering the fate of their friend in his past life, the others off in their own versions of that world. The only one passing judgment on Shuuhei today was Shuuhei himself. The revelation startled him.

Renji was the first to speak. "Does Isane still do that stuff, Hisagi?"

Rising from the easy chair, he headed to the counter to put cream in his coffee. He usually drank his coffee black, but his legs were restless and needed to move. It was as good of an excuse as any. Oddly, his was the only movement in the room.

"Yeah, she still does the research, just not full time now that she's passed her exams." Coffee refreshed, he again settled heavily into the warm leather of the chair, grateful for the silence in the room. But in his experience, silence meant wild weather ahead.

After a moment, he peered at the pensive red-head and asked, "Whassup, Red?"

Renji studied his fingers for a moment before asking hopefully, "Dude, who do you think I was? Do you think she'd hypnotize me?"

Before Shuuhei could answer, Iba answered for him, "Abarai, you were probably a doofus in a past life. Oh, wait! Nothing's changed!"

"Shut up, Iba, you moron. I really want to know who I was in the world of the living. I bet I had money…and cars."

"You know, Renji," Hisagi said, hoping to head off the storm, "there's a reason we teach 'the less known the better.' Take it from me; some things really are better left unknown."

Renji popped off the sofa and headed for the door. "You know what I think? I think that's bull!" He glared down at Hisagi, challenging him. Seeing no response other than a shrug, he turned to his comrades. "Don't you guys want to know too? Aren't you the least bit curious about who you were?" He stood with his hands outstretched, urgently inviting them to come with him. "I'm going right now and ask Isane to hypnotize me. Who's with me?"

"…Well, I don't need to know for myself," yawned Kira, retracting his earlier statement, "but if you guys want to know who I was, I suppose I can…"

"…I'll bet Yumichika led an interesting life. Sure would to fun to know…"

"…I'll take you up on that bet, Ikkaku. Bet I was boring as hell."

"…You're on, Fancy Feathers. Let's go…I can't imagine you being boring."

"…Still beautiful as ever, just boring. Quiet little life as an international film star…"

"…This is whack. What if I was a mass murderer or something."

"…Cool! I'll be so disappointed if you weren't. C'mon, Iba."

As if racing against the wind, the five Shinigami muscled their way out of the door, yelling and screaming along the porch like a pack of wild animals.

Hisagi yelled after them, "Don't tell Isane I sent you. She'll shoot me." Hisagi sighed, fading down into the chair. "She's going to shoot me dead."

Three more chapters to go. Should be up in the next few days. Thanks for reading!


	4. Connection

The only sound in the room was the quiet snore of the sleeping Shinigami in his chair. Waiting for the others to return, Shuuhei had been lulled into restful repose by the window fans moving the warm summer air about the room.

As he slept, his mind wandered back to a nearly-forgotten time, a time unsettled in his soul, a time of vague shadows behind a veil where only impressions, not actual events, existed. He felt warmth, perhaps the warmth of another body, lying next to him on a soft palette. He basked in that warmth, the security of that other being next to him, at once at peace, yet oddly disturbed, a slight fear shivering its way into his spine.

The fear grew.

He tried to reason with his dream. _This isn't real; there's nothing to be afraid of_, but the dream wasn't satisfied.

_Yes there is_, it whispered hoarsely at him from the back of his head. _Wake up, wake up! _

But the overwhelming feelings of warmth and security prevailed, and he settled back into a cozy dream reality that he couldn't explain. The warm body next to him enveloped him in her softness. Her scent drifted through his nostrils like a summer breeze. Somehow, he could hear a voice calling his name, only it wasn't his name. It was the name of who he used to be. And the voice wasn't calling any more. It had become shrill and harsh, like a woman betrayed.

The pain came as a surprise, jolting him upright in his dream, away from the warmth, into the screaming night air. He jerked in his sleep. Had someone been watching the sleeping man, he would have thought that Shuuhei was having convulsions based on the violent movements of his head and torso.

In his dream world, the sudden pain brought by the flash of searing light was accompanied by the roaring percussion of sound. Not a storm. A betrayal. Emotions unleashed. The fiery light and deafening noise flashed in rapid succession. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Acrid smoke replaced the welcoming scent of his lover. A scream died in his ear. The comfortable warmth of his body turned sticky, wet and cold as he collapsed back onto the bed. He could feel no bodily pain, only the vague pain of agony recalled in a wisp of memory. It was enough to wake him.

He sat up in the chair, willing himself to wake up and leave that dream world behind.

"It was only a dream," he chided himself, "same damn dream, but it was only a dream. Dammit, Isane, I wish I didn't know. I need some coffee."

He stood and walked over to the coffee pot, hoping the action would serve as a distraction to his waking mind.

"Isane."

Things had not been right between them in a very long time. The uneasiness that he felt around her was magnified by her seeming distaste for him. It hadn't always been that way. Once, there had been tenderness and caring, but after the hypnosis, their relationship had dissolved into anger and hurt. If he had one regret about his past life, it was that it had reared its ugly head in his present life.

"Sorry, Isane."

He was roused from his melancholia by the raucous approach of Shinigami down the walkway. The laughing voices and footsteps grew louder. Renji was the first in the door, followed by Kira, Ikkaku and Iba bringing up the rear. Renji threw a friendly punch in Shuuhei's direction, then proceeded to box with an unseen opponent. Iba took a seat on the sofa, hands folded in his lap, smiling.

"Hey, hey, Gym Teacher, guess what?" yelled Ikkaku into Shuuhei's face. "Kira's a rock star!"

"I wasn't a rock star. I was an Olympic figure skater, you idiot." Kira reached for the cold cup of coffee that he had left behind.

"Congrats, Izuru," Shuuhei intoned quietly. "More exciting than being a gym teacher." The memory of his dream settled back into the recesses of his mind.

"I won a medal, you know." He warmed the contents of the cup with hot coffee from the pot. "Silver, but still, it's an Olympic medal." His eyes smiled happily over the rim of the cup as he drank.

"Second best in the world. Not bad," Shuuhei smiled.

"Thanks." The blond pulled the cup down from his lips. Ruefully, he sighed, "I could have done so much more if I hadn't been killed by that drunk driver." He paused a moment to let that sink in. "I was just crossing the street, Shuuhei, minding my own business, when WHAM!" He slammed the cup on the counter. "Out of nowhere…a promising career cut short…"

"Yea, yea, and your sister's the king of the Shinigami." Ikkaku cut Kira off. "Quit complaining, Kira. You're an idiot if you think it makes any difference here."

"You're making fun of my death, you heartless…"

"It's not like you have a connection to it any more." He poked at the blond with a pool cue. "So shut up already."

"I was in a coma…"

"Big deal." Poke.

"For four months…"

"You died. Get over it." Poke. Poke. Poke.

Kira knocked the stick from Ikkaku's hand. "Bastard."

"That's all you've been talking about since we left Isane's place," Ikkaku covered his ears with his hands and shook his head. "Coma this, potential that. Big deal."

"It is a big deal to me!" Kira protested, "I could have been really great. First place, not second. Endorsements, fans, a gold medal, maybe two."

"Hey, Kira," called Renji, having lost his battle to the shadows. "Telephone. It's the Ice Capades. They want their costume back. Oh, wait, that's not a costume, that's your hair."

"Like you should talk, you freak. You're addicted to tattoos, Mr. Never-Met-A-Tattoo-I-Didn't-Like. You need help," Kira sneered at Renji, willing him to continue.

"Hey, at least I'd never get one like Hisagi's, let alone on my face."

"Wait a minute. How'd I get involved in this little lover's quarrel of yours?"

"A three-way. Figured that was your style, Hisagi," Ikkaku raised an eyebrow, answered by a hard punch in the arm.

"Sorry, Shu," Kira glanced at his perplexed friend, "but Tattoo-You Boy over there just got on my last nerve. I couldn't fulfill my potential; I was in a coma, for Pete's sake, and he's ragging on me."

"You want a piece of me, Kira? Come on, Blondie, let's go. Three rounds. Hisagi, you're the referee."

"Moron, you're a Shinigami now, not a boxer." Ikkaku cuffed Renji on the ear. Renji swung around wildly, letting the punches fall where they may, connecting with nothing. "Face it, you were a lousy boxer then, Abarai, and you're not much better now."

"Renji? A boxer? Should have figured that one out by the way he's been taking jabs at everything in sight," Shuuhei grinned and raised his coffee cup.

"Yea, just call me the Renjinator…or Hulk Renji…the Renj. Yea, the Renj!"

"Personally, I like Mr. Boxer-Who-Never-Won-A-Bout," Kira said bitterly.

"What do you know, Kira? My last fight was a big one. I was going up against the old heavy-weight champ. After ten years, he was making his come-back. I almost had him too." He threw a few jabs in the air. "They wanted me to take a dive, but man! I could taste victory. It would have been so easy just to lie down and let the champ have that fight. I told 'em before hand that I didn't want to do it. I thought I could win."

"Sure you did, Renji," humored Hisagi nonchalantly, between sips.

"Yea, I wasn't going to let them ruin my career. If I could knock out the champ, I'd show 'em what I was made of."

"Turned out to be pudding," Ikkaku whispered out of the side of his mouth as he walked past Hisagi. Hisagi choked on his coffee.

"So I'm in the ring, see. Fourth round, things are going my way. Champ is getting winded…wasn't even trying very hard…did get a couple of licks in though, when I wasn't looking. So I knew I had him…bell rang…went to my corner. My manager says, 'Killer, you gotta take a dive.' 'I can't, Morty, I've got him on the ropes,' says me. 'Yer makin' a big mistake, kid,' says Morty, and he holds this cloth over my face like he's dabbing blood, 'cept I can't breathe. The cloth smells funny like it has something on it. Anastasia or something."

"Anesthesia?"

"Yea, but it was more like a fast-acting poison or something. I never found out what it was; they don't tell dead people anything."

"I can't believe he said that…"

Renji paused and drew in a deep breath. "So, anyways, the bell rings and Morty pushes me back into the ring. I can't catch my breath, see, and Morty says, 'Sorry, Kid, you made the wrong choice.' My eyes are getting blurry, I'm hardly breathin.' An' I see the champ comin' at me, swingin' and I go down before he even lays a hand on me. The last thing I see is white mat rushing up to meet my face. Never woke up."

"At least, you didn't linger," Kira sniffed.

"No, Kira, I liked licking the mat as my last act on earth," Renji sneered.

"Like I said, at least, it was quick."

"Not like the way you're going to die now. Com'ere, you skating fruit loop. I've got your coma right here."

Kira deftly dodged the red-head's left hook. "You're all talk, Boxer Wanna-Be."

"Let it go, Izuru." Hisagi put his hand on the blonde's thin shoulder. "You know how Renji can get." The blond Shinigami nodded sullenly, crossing the room to the dart board.

"Don't take his side, Hisagi, 'cause I got one for you too!" Renji blustered.

Hisagi laughed and joined Ikkaku at the coffee pot for his fifth cup of coffee.

"Planning to sleep tonight, Gym Teacher? Better slow down on the caffeine."

Absently slapping Madarame on the back of the head, he shrugged, "I told you not to call me that." Maybe he was counting on not sleeping tonight. If he slept, he'd dream, and he told himself he couldn't chance having that dream again. It meant he was still connected to the world of the living, and it was a connection he was desperate to sever. Now, he wanted coffee, coffee black and strong, hold the cream.

Kira, still smoldering from lack of empathy, pulled the darts from the dartboard, staring over his shoulder at Renji in anger.

"Quit staring at me, Kira. It's stupid," Renji ordered.

"Why would I look at you? You're too stupid to look at."

"Am not."

"Am too."

"Then I'll stare at you. How stupid does that feel, huh?"

"Stupid is as stupid does," Kira shot back.

"What does that mean?" Renji scanned the faces of the amused Shinigami. Madarame muffled his laughter in Shuuhei's back; Shuuhei struggled to keep a straight face. Iba, still smiling, blinked. Settling his eyes on Shuuhei, Renji asked, "Does anyone know what the hell that means?"

A dart flew perilously close to his head.

Two more chapters…


	5. Distraction

"So where's Yumichika? He didn't come back with you guys?" Shuuhei chalked the pool cue, leaned over the table, lining up the balls with a severe eye. "Eight ball in the corner pocket." A precise shot sent the cue ball careening towards the black ball at the other end of the table. The black ball's advance was stopped a split second before it entered the pocket by a zanpakutou shoved deeply into the pool table in front of the corner pocket, creating an effective, but destructive, barrier.

"Madarame, what the hell? You broke the pool table!" yelled Renji.

"Not to mention you're a bad loser," grumped Shuuhei. "That game was mine and you know it."

"Sorry, Gym Shu, but you missed the pocket. You lose."

"Don't call me that either. Besides, you broke the table. It's coming out of your pay."

"Gym Shu," snickered Renji behind his hand. He ducked, but not fast enough, as a cue chalk dusted his hair blue upon impact.

"We'll be lucky if Yamamoto requisitions a new pool table. This isn't the first one you broke."

"Yea, well, that was an accident. The guy I was playing thought I was from that pansy fourth division. I couldn't let him get away with that, now could I?"

"It was at the annual masquerade party, Madarame, and you were dressed like a medic. What was the guy supposed to think?"

"You guys are so immature," Kira sniffed. "Don't argue with him, Shuuhei. He's just a clown. Isane said so."

"Ha, Kira, I wasn't just a clown. I was a rodeo clown, man. I put my life on the line in front of bulls to save rodeo riders."

"And I was in coma for six months…"

"Four. Get over it, Second-place Sally."

"Rodeo clown, huh?" Shuuhei saw his chance to get even for the earlier teasing. "So, if you were a rodeo clown, that means you wore heavy make-up and baggy pants, and ran from danger by hiding in barrels. Not much different from now, Cue Ball, except then you had hair, even if it was rainbow-colored."

"Hey, I saved lives by distracting the bulls. I probably did a form of my luck-luck dance in front of them." The fleet-of-foot Shinigami leapt and bounced around the room. "Wait a minute, what did you mean by that crack about make-up??"

Shuuhei looked at Renji and asked, "Where'd you say Yumi was again?"

Renji came and sat next to Iba on the couch. Iba smiled blankly at him, then returned to the space between his ears that he had been occupying. "Oh, he got upset and went back to his place."

"I told you guys it wasn't a good idea to go to Isane. Look at Iba. He's a grinning fool."

"Well, I, for one, didn't mind finding out that I was a rodeo clown. Kind of fits me, don't you think? Rugged, yet charming. But, Yumichika…man! Yumi learned how he died and got really upset."

"I can understand that," Shuuhei murmured. "So how did he die?"

"He fell under a tractor after being pecked to death by a flock of parakeets."

"WHAT?"

"Yea, seems he was tilling the soil on his farm…"

"Yumichika was a farmer?" Shuuhei scratched his head.

"Sort of…Seems he was standing on his tractor to get a closer look at this flock of parakeets up in a tree."

"They're called Budgies in Australia," added Kira.

"He was Australian? That explains a few things."

"…But the birds didn't like it, and they began to flock on Yumi. Yumi lost his balance, hit the gears on the tractor and was mulched to death, I guess. Can't say I know much about tractors."

"I still can't believe he was farmer. That's so out of character for him."

"Well, he only farmed so that he could grow organic feed for his flock of emus."

"…Emus?"

"Yea, Ostrich-like. Big birdies. Feathery, kind of wispy-like plumage. Yumi bred them."

"Yumichika was an Emu breeder?" Shuuhei was incredulous.

"Yea, and that's how he died, so he was kind of upset."

"It didn't help that you told him it was a dumb way to die, Madarame."

"You telling me it wasn't dumb? Pecked to death by parakeets?"

"I thought he got run over by a tractor."

"That was before the Emus stampeded and trampled what was left of him."

"Sounds like he could have used a rodeo clown. Speaking of which, Madarame, how did you die? Gored by a bull in the rodeo, I assume?"

"Yea, in Pamplona. The rodeo went overseas to perform and some of us decided to run with the bulls through the streets of Pamplona. So we were all running, and these bulls kept getting closer and closer. That's when I saw one of my rodeo buddies fall to the ground with the bulls bearing madly down upon him. So, in the most selfless act of my life, I started dancing and waving at the bulls to give the other guys a chance to get out of the way…but I kind of forgot I wasn't at the rodeo, and when I looked for a barrel to jump into, all I could find was an over-sized planter, so the last thing I knew, I was being carried by the biggest bull of them all, Gigantor the Terrible, through the streets of Pamplona, massive horn in my gut, blood pouring from my shattered body, mourned by the masses for my bravery…"

"You always were full of bull."


	6. Mercy

Iba rose from the sofa purposefully, drawing the other's attention. He stood tall and proud. All eyes in the room were on him, waiting for him to break his silence. He had sat on the sofa since coming back from Isane's place, never moving, not participating, only smiling. To the others, he had looked like a grinning zombie with sunglasses. But Iba had been pouring over and over in his mind the memories that Isane had pulled out of him. Now, as he stood, mindful of his posture, he stood tall and with purpose. He stood proud, sunglasses reflecting the fading sun of the late afternoon through the open door.

Having nothing better to do, the others waited on him to speak.

_Wait for it_, he thought to himself. _Wait until everybody is looking, watching, waiting…The timing has to be perfect…_

Ikkaku sneezed.

"Bless you."

"Pansy."

With a flourish of his hand, Iba the Proud, Iba the Tall, announced, "I, Tetsuzaemon Iba, Vice-Captain and second in command of Squad 7 under the honorable Captain Sajin Komamura of the Gotei 13, command that we go see Yumichika Ayasegawa and make him feel better. Madarame, you owe him an apology. So do you, Abarai. On your feet, Men, let's go! Hut one! Hut two!"

Hisagi looked at Kira, then at Iba, standing proudly and looking self-important. "Iba, what's gotten into you?"

"Posture, Hisagi, posture. You said it yourself: one's command depends on how one presents oneself. Respect. Doing what's right. Making amends. On your feet, men, on your feet," Iba commanded again.

"Keep your pants on, Iba. I want to finish my coffee." Renji started to drink.

"NOW, ABARAI!" ordered the Shinigami. Renji stared at him in disbelief, feeling the heat of anger rise in his collar.

"You too, Ikkaku Madarame!"

"You've created a monster, Hisagi. Thanks a lot." Madarame threw a pillow at him.

"What are you blaming me for? I warned you: the less known the better," argued Shuuhei, sending the pillow hurtling back at the bald one. It came sailing back, and like teenage girls at a sleep-over, an all-out hand-to-hand pillow war had begun. "What's his deal anyway?"

Madarame ducked beneath a flying pillow. "Isane told him that he had been the very successful CEO of a major company, tons of money, tons of babes, tons of friends..."

"…On your feet, Abarai. Give me that…"

"…Didn't anyone ever teach you not to grab?"

Ikkaku continued, "Must have had a mint too 'cuz he traveled all over the world in a private jet, handing out money to poor folk," he chucked a pillow at Shuuhei while dodging another one, "you know, poor folk like gym teachers."

"…Ow, that's hot, you moron…."

"…We have a mission of mercy to complete. Now move it…"

"…Why, you sanctimonious …"

A misdirected pillow sailed through the air at Kira. Catching it, he picked up the story, "That's how he died, you know."

"…I'm gonna kill you, Iba. I'm gonna to kill you dead…"

Hisagi stopped mid-throw and looked at him to continue.

"He was flying a mission of mercy after a devastating tsunami when his plane went down."

"…Sheesh, you pansy, it couldn't have been very hot. It's been sitting all afternoon..."

"They named hospitals after him, started foundations in his name, gave scholarships. Even after death, his good works have continued."

"…It's going to stain my hakama…"

"…It was just a little coffee, Abarai..."

"He was a true beneficent leader, respectful of others and respected by all whose lives he touched."

"…I'll get it dry cleaned, Renji, I promise…"

A pillow flew past Iba's head. He whined, "Come on, guys, I'm really trying here, and I'm not feeling the love. Yumichika needs us right now. He was pretty upset, and I think we should go talk to him, maybe take him out for a couple of drinks or some…"

"Drinks? Why didn't you say so, Iba? I'd rather have sake than coffee any day." Shoving the big man aside, Renji ran towards the door.

"Count me in," yelled Madarame, shoving a pillow into Hisagi's face and following Renji out the door. He called back over his shoulder, "Hey, Coma Boy, Gym Shu, you comin'?"

"Kira? Hisagi?" Iba asked hopefully from the doorway. Renji and Ikkaku were already out of sight.

"I'm coming too," said Kira. "Yumichika could use some cheering up. Shuuhei, you coming?"

"No, I'm tired. I think I'm going to stay in tonight. Probably won't sleep. Too much caffeine. I'll be in the can all night, but at least I'll be home." Turning to the Shinigami in the doorway, he said earnestly, "Way to go, Iba. You really got them to take action. Should be easier with your division from now on."

"Yea, thanks, Shuuhei. I knew I could count on you." He gestured with his head towards the darkening sky outside. "I gotta catch up with them before Yumichika thinks it was all their idea. See you later. Come on, Kira." With a wave, he flash-stepped into the dusk.

"Night, Shuuhei. See you tomorrow."

"Don't worry about the mess. I'll clean up in here."

"Thanks."

"Izuru," Hisagi called as Kira passed through the door onto the wooden walkway outside. The blond turned to look at the black-haired Shinigami. "Four months in a coma, huh? Must have been tough."

"Eight months, but who's counting?" he smiled. Pausing, his eyes met Shuuhei's. "Hisagi?"

"Yes, Kira?

"Watch your back for a few days, huh?" he said quietly. "Isane was pretty mad that you told us about her research. She said the next time she sees you, she's going to kill you."

The other shrugged casually. "She didn't mean it, Kira. It'll pass."

"If you say so, Shu. See you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow, Kira. 'Night."

He watched as Kira disappeared into the evening air to catch up to the others. Shuuhei drained the last of his coffee. Stretching lazily, he picked up his coffee cup and a few of the others scattered around and took them to the sink. Grabbing his katana, he walked to the door and switched off the light. His thoughts wandered to Isane. He sighed, "She's going to kill me, huh?"…the ghost of a life long past flitted through his mind as the room fell dark…"Won't be the first time."

Well, that's it. Thanks for reading. Hope you got a giggle or two.


End file.
